


Maybe It Was Peace At Last

by moreculturelesspop



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Always Female Dean Winchester, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Infant Death, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27879514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreculturelesspop/pseuds/moreculturelesspop
Summary: She places the hand not holding the mug on the swell of her belly. It’s heavy with child. A tiny miracle in the grim Croatoan infected world.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	Maybe It Was Peace At Last

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics belong to Ben Howard. Mentions of infant death.

_Oh your mind was marked and wounded with the wounders whip_

_And that's how summer passed oh your,_

_Great divide and range of green green grass_

_Oh, maybe it was peace at last, who knew_

She watches as another body gets carried out the camp. They used to cover their corpses in sheets, curtains, even trash bags. Now everyone was so desensitized the sight was no longer upsetting, it barely registered.

She places the hand not holding the mug on the swell of her belly. It’s heavy with child. A tiny miracle in the grim Croatoan infected world. She longs to hear its heartbeat, to see the grainy ultrasound, to be able to wake up and know their child was okay. She bows her head in respect as the corpse passes her. She’ll pretend it’s just another number, but it’s not, it’s someone’s brother, someone’s son, someone’s friend. One day that will be her. One day it will be Cas.

She feels a hand on her shoulder, and she looks to see Cas. He smells like pot and his eyes are blurry, but he’s hers. “Come to bed,” he whispers. She nods, the day had been long and violent. Their child kicks in agreement against her palm. He takes the mug from her hand and heads back inside, the curtain rattling as he enters their makeshift home.

She takes one last look at her camp, relieved she had survived another brutal day. She walks inside, fighting slightly with the curtain on her way. Cas never did get along with doors.

He is led on their bed, topless, wearing nothing but his jeans. She takes her jacket off, finally able to show her bump. The didn’t know about it, they didn’t need to. She wasn’t hiding it, she just wasn’t divulging the contents of her uterus to campmates.

“You’re beautiful,” Cas tells her, with a sleepy smile. His eyes are glazed over, they always are now. Sometimes she wonders if he even understands the impacts of the child inside her. When their child is born, if their child is born, does he know how huge it is. “Turn to the side.” She obliges, turning to the side and cradling her belly. He looks at it in wonder, looks at her growing life. It’s a miracle, they both know this. They shouldn’t have been able to conceive. Shouldn’t have been able to form life in the wasteland. Yet they did. Her and Cas could always defy the odds.

She rubs her belly and feels a kick in response. It was supposed to be uncomfortable, but she felt every pang reassuring. It was a miracle, no matter how much her feet became swollen, how much she threw up, how sore her back became she would never take it for granted.

Cas sits at the end of the bed and marvels at her. No man would ever look at her this way, that she was sure of. He makes a gesture for her to go to him. She takes three steps towards him and smiles gently. His hand is at the waistband of her jeans. She can just about zip them up, although the button went months ago. He pulls them down to reveal her cotton black panties. She had given up the sexy lace panties long ago. Now function and comfort were her priority.

He kisses her thighs, a gentle hand placed just under her buttocks. She hadn’t even considered about the stretch marks, the weight, the cellulite. This body had created life in a gray world were nothing was supposed to survive. He places gentle kisses against her thigh, lingering at her overgrown pubic hair. He leans back on the bed and lets her straddle down, fully kicking her jeans offs.

He buries his head in her chest. She doesn’t wear a bra anymore, just layers of vests under her shirt. They sit like this, her breath against his messy hair and his against her chest. They breathe each other, taking a moment to forget where they were.

She lies on her side, Cas rearranging the blankets around her. They smell like mould and weed; she’s gotten used to it. In fact, the smell had become reassuring. She feels him behind her, one hand on her hip. He’s against her, hard and wet already, waiting at her entrance. He kisses her neck as a way of asking permission. She sighs and grinds against him. It stings when he enters but she enjoys feeling him so close. One hand sneaks underneath her, to rest under her bump.

He moves slowly, resting his chin on her shoulder. She keeps her shirt on, she gets cold and Cas doesn’t mind. His jaw is sharp against her shoulder bone, but she doesn’t mind. They make love slowly, their baby rocked to sleep by the motion. He stays inside after he comes, dozing off before he can pull out. She never comes, she wants to, but her body is too on edge. The sex wasn’t about orgasms anymore, it was about love and intimacy. She feels his semen drip down her legs as he pulls out, she’ll wipe it away later. He’ll place one delicate kiss on the centre of her back before falling asleep.

She’ll give birth three weeks later. It’ll be too early. Too violent. Their daughter will live for four minutes. She’s born in her father’s arms and she’ll die there. She won’t talk about it. Cas won’t ask. Everyone will know. Everyone will see the new grave on the outskirts of town. Some will see her visit the grave. No one will ask what happens. When she is killed by Lucifer in her brother’s meatsuit, her daughter will be the last thing on her mind. 

**Author's Note:**

> So I've had a bit of a creative block lately (not helped by that finale). This is just a silly little thing to try to get me back into it. I know it's depressing and bleak. Any comments are welcome.


End file.
